Aldric depended on the sword for support, its hilt soaked with blood, either his own or the orc's, he could no longer be sure. He took sharp gasps, each one a horrible reminder that his death was imminent. The battlefield was now strangely quiet, but for the distant cawing of crows soaring overhead and the occasional moan of the dying. He glanced down at himself, grimacing at the sight. His tunic was torn and soaked with blood, and his muscles screamed with every movement.
[This isn't sustainable,] Aldric A, his vision swimming. [I need to get out of here before something worse shows up.]
He looked around. The battleground was surrounded by a forest, its shadowy canopy providing a somber haven. With more adversaries coming back to scavenge or worse, he couldn't stay out in the open. His every step was a struggle as he hobbled toward the forest line, steeling himself.
AT the stream's edge, washing off the worst of the blood. His reflection wavered on the surface, a stranger staring back at him. The face was sharp and unfamiliar, but the eyes held his fear he found was narrow but clean, its cold water stinging as he splashed it on his face and arms. He knelt by tear, his determination.
[How did I get here?] he wondered, though the question felt futile now. [Why me?]
With trembling hands, he rinsed his wounds, gritting his teeth against the pain. His body, though stronger than his old one, still felt fragile after the fight. He tore strips from his already ruined tunic, using them to bind the cuts on his arms and legs. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.
The sun was beginning to set by the time Aldric felt ready to move again. His legs were unsteady, his stomach gnawed at him with hunger, but the adrenaline was fading, replaced by the dull throb of survival instinct. He couldn't stay here. The battlefield might draw scavengers, both animal and humanoid, and he had no strength left for another fight.
It was a painful and slow trip. Desperation heightened his senses as Aldric staggered across the trees. His pulse raced with each snap of a twig or rustle of leaves, but nothing came out of the darkness. Every stride he took made his hold on the sword tighter. He only needed to keep going; he had no idea where he was headed.
Later that night, he was taken aback by what he saw when he topped a hill. There was a town below, encircled by enormous wooden and stone walls. The structures within were modest but sturdy, their chimneys releasing faint plumes of smoke into the twilight sky. He could make out the faint figures of guards patrolling the perimeter and the flicker of torches along the walls.
[Finally,] Aldric thought, a wave of relief washing over him.[An opportunity to find answers. Perhaps even a chances to rest.]
Aldric's movements were shaky but determined as he reached the massive gates of the village. He was immediately noticed by the on-duty guards, who quickly reached for their weapon hilts.
"Halt!" one of them barked, his voice cutting through the evening air. "State your business!"
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Aldric lifted his hands, the sword held loosely in one, the torchlight glinting on the bloodstained blade. His voice was scratchy as he continued, "I mean no harm." "I'm looking for a place to stay."
His wounded and ripped look drew the soldiers' cautious glances back and forth. With a frown, one of them moved forward. "You appear to have gone through a difficult time. From where are you coming?
"The forest," said Aldric. "There was a fight. Orcs.
The guards' faces darkened with just one phrase alone. The person next him gave a strong nod. Come in gently and lower your weapon. You will have to answer some questions for us. As he entered the gate, Aldric obeyed, keeping the blade by his side. Up close, the settlement looked more formidable, its streets crowded with people in spite of the hour and its walls fortified with iron bands. With cautious yet resolute attitudes, a variety of humans, dwarfs, and even a few elves strolled about. It was a stronghold against the mayhem outside, a place created in the furnace of war.
The guard who had spoken earlier gestured for Aldric to follow. "Welcome to Nesharvad," he said gruffly. "Don't cause trouble, and you'll find what you're looking for."
Aldric was shown to a little, tidy room with a wooden table holding a basin of water and a cot in one corner. As he talked, the guard stood with his arms folded at the entrance.
"In the morning, you will answer to Captain Halvek," he stated. "For the time being, tidy up and relax. It appears that you need it.
Aldric nodded, his look conveying his silent appreciation. The weight of the day suddenly fell on him as the door closed behind him and he dropped into the cot.
[What am I doing here?] he wondered, staring at the ceiling. [Why is this happening to me?]
Sleep claimed him before he could find an answer.
The next morning, Aldric stood before Captain Halvek, a grizzled man with sharp eyes that seemed to pierce through lies. Halvek's office was sparse but functional, its walls lined with maps and weapons. He studied Aldric for a long moment before speaking.
"You said you fought orcs," Halvek began. "Alone?"
Aldric hesitated, then nodded. "It was… one orc. And I barely survived."
Halvek's gaze hardened. "You're lucky, then. Most don't walk away from a fight with even one of those beasts. What were you doing out there?"
"I don't know," Aldric admitted. "I woke up in the middle of nowhere. I don't remember how I got there."
Although Halvek's face remained unchanged, Aldric could see the man was skeptical. At last, he remarked, "You're not the first stranger to wander into these lands." But you'd better discover your goal as soon as possible. Drifters have no place in Nesharvad. Everyone must do their part in the war we are fighting.
Though his thoughts were already racing, Aldric nodded. He had to comprehend this world, its inhabitants, and its problems. But his top objective was to survive for the time being. And his best chance was Nesharvad, with its inhabitants and its walls.